Page 81 of The Invite
“Ness,” he sighs softly.
“What?” I yell, except my voice comes out shaky. Half panicking and half angry, I scold him, “You crazy freaking monster. I told you it wasn’t safe.”
“It’s nothing. It’ll heal.”
“Nothing?” I wrench my gaze to his serene face as he leans against my headboard. His hair falls over his forehead in disarray. I would be fawning over his sexiness if it were any other circumstances. “For the love of God,August, you’re still bleeding.”
His gaze flashes heatedly, and I’m bewildered.
Instead of asking the reason behind his look, I climb down the bed and run to the adjoined bathroom. In the mirror cabinet, I grab the first aid kit and hurry back to his side.
Kneeling beside him on the bed, I lift the lid of the plastic box and yank out some cotton. Tenderly taking his wrist, I turn it over and dab the thick gauze on the wound.
The last time I saw so much blood… I discard the memory.
I focus on my task and put pressure on the wound. When the redness soaks through, I put more gauze over the area. Augustus remains quiet, not even a hiss or a groan out of him. Once I’ve stopped the bleeding, I finally tilt my neck to glance at him.
His eyelids are half-mast and staring at me under hooded eyes.
A zing of electricity runs down my spine but I ignore it.
“We need to wash this before I clean it,” I tell him, standing from the bed. “Come.”
After watching me for a lingering breath without drifting his gaze down my bare body, he listens and follows me to the bathroom. He towers over my small frame as I place his hand under the tap and twist.
Standing in the cramped space, I become aware of my nakedness and him being shirtless and wearing only his jeans that hang low on his waist. The deep and cut V on his hips is tempting me to stare and steal a glimpse of his cock.
Will he ever let me see, let alone touch him?
Why would you want to, Nessa?
Disgust swarms in, trying to drown me for even imagining wanting Augustus after everything he’s done. His unhealthy obsession with bringing me orgasm after orgasm.
I can no longer deny I become a willing participant and enjoy every minute while vowing to push him away thenext time. Only to fail and succumb to this forbidden and catastrophic chemistry between us.
It’s reckless and dangerous behavior.
Just look at what happened tonight.
I let him fuck me with a goddamn knife and now he’s bleeding in my bathroom because he has no self-preservation. He gets off on violence and he’s corrupting my head too. He’s the last man I should lust after.
Turning off the tap, I grab a clean washcloth. Meticulously, I dry his palm and relax when the blood has stopped dripping. I’m also able to study the wound clearly and conclude that he doesn’t need stitches.
Dropping his wrist, I walk out, knowing he’ll follow.
He quietly does.
After sitting on the bed without waiting for my command, I tremble when he tugs me between his spread legs and keeps his uninjured arm around my waist.
“Finish.” He gives me his upturned hand.
I have to reach around him to grab the kit. Leaning over, my breasts come dangerously close to his mouth. A moan escapes when he uses it to his advantage and dips his head to seal his lips around my nipple.
“Augustus,” I whisper as a weak protest.
“I need a distraction, Nessa.”
His mouth glides to the other nipple and closes around it. I concentrate on finishing dressing his wound quickly so he’ll leave. Flipping open the small box, I pull out the antibacterial cream and some more cotton.
